Liability
by Just Slightly Obsessed
Summary: A 20 year old Max is searching for the last piece of her happiness. But can it really be a bitter, half-starving arsonist who really 'don't care any more' Slight Fax, oneshot


**OK, so I've only read the first 4 books, and I know something major happens in 'Fang', so I'm just gonna say this is set five years after 'The Final Warning', excluding whatever happened in the later two books. This probably isn't my best story ever, but what can I say? Drastic times, ie, faced with a mountain of homework, calls for drastic measures. And it's my birthday tomorrow so I had to. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do solemnly swear that neither Maximum Ride or Letter in the Mail is mine.**

* * *

It was cold.

I wrapped my coat more tightly around me. This was the sort of temperature that gave you frostbite. The sooner I was inside, the better.

But I didn't move.

Why, I don't know. The answer to all my questions could be lying in the house before me. It would be dark soon, and I'd promised Fang I'd be back before midnight. I'd never be able to forgive myself if I left without finding out… without even trying.

And yet, somehow, my feet refused to budge.

_Come on, Max, _my mind shrieked at me. _This isn't just for you. It's for the entire flock. All of us. Together._

I didn't know why I was so scared. Perhaps the thought that I could be wrong. The thought that it could be someone completely different in that lodger's room. The thought that not only my dreams, but the others' dreams too, could disappear just like that.

_But it'll be worse for them if you come back alone._

That did it. I stepped down off the kerb, crossed the road, and headed up the drive of the house in question. Raising my hand, I knocked on the door.

Just like that.

It didn't take long for Mrs Daniels to answer. She'd been expecting me, I knew. I'd rung up to make sure that their lodger was the same one I was looking for. I'd said I'd call tonight.

"Did you make it here all right?" she asked. She seemed worried. Of course, she would be. This part of town wasn't particularly nice, and it had probably been very difficult to find someone who would pay them to live here. The thought that I might take that person away from them seemed to scare her.

That's why I hadn't told her what I planned to do.

"Yes. It was fine, thank you."

She nodded. "He's upstairs."

Following Mrs Daniels, I could feel my heart beating so fast it became a blur. Five years I'd waited… longer, if you counted the time he'd spent locked in his room. I never thought it would come to this. I never even knew he was upset.

At my heart, I suppose I didn't even want to know.

Stupid. Idiot. Moron.

He'd seemed all right though. He'd seemed fine, despite the experiments, despite his disabilities, despite even his parents. There'd been nothing wrong. He'd still been my blind, sarcastic, pale, sexist pyromaniac.

He was still all those things. Except mine.

So what started it? I'd asked myself thousands of times. The actual deaths of his parents, despite what they'd done? The knowledge that they'd died thinking of their only son as a money making scheme? Even the distant way in which he'd found out; a newspaper article, found in a bin and read out to him by Fang?

Was it the isolation? After a while, it must have got to him. He was older than I remembered, only a few months younger than Fang, and yet he was treated like one of the youngsters. Especially once Fang and I started going out. I don't think the kids took him seriously when he was left in charge.

I thought I got exasperated with them. But he was growing up at the same speed as I was; he was the same age as me. And he got grouped with them.

I knew what blew it. When Ella had gone missing… well, I think we'd all secretly speculated on their relationship. I don't know whether it was true or not. He'd wanted desperately to find her, of course, we all did. But I'd made him stay behind.

I never said the word liability. He knew it was there, all the same.

And then he left. Our only trace a burning warehouse, not too far from us. The letter 'I' had been hacked into the ground outside. And then our pyromaniac had become a hunted arsonist. On the run, for 5 years. Until now.

As I climbed the stairs, I realised I could hear music.

I blinked. I recognised it. James Taylor – Letter in the mail. It had been one of Iggy's favourites. If possible, my heart beat even faster.

And then, I heard his voice.

It wasn't the most spectacular voice in the world, but that didn't matter to me. It was quiet, tuneful. And unmistakably Iggy's.

We reached the room. Mrs Daniels clearly expected me to go in, but I just stood in the doorway. I think she must have left, after a while. I didn't notice.

He was lying on a small bed in the corner of a mangy room. A small CD player rested on a table near him. The music was playing loud enough to block out any other sounds in the room, so he hadn't heard me. I wondered if the volume was intentional.

The last words I'd heard Iggy speak were, 'Go then! I really don't care! I don't give a damn anymore!'

He certainly looked like he didn't give a damn anymore. His clothes clearly hadn't been changed in a week; a ratty grey T-shirt and a pair of old jeans which seemed too tight for him. He'd grown, being at least 6 foot 6 now. His face was even less colourful than I remembered, tight and drawn. He hadn't been eating properly and, to my surprise, he wasn't that pleasing to look at. I guess he'd always been good looking. Not that I'd really noticed, what with my Fang troubles and all.

How could we be the same age? I glanced down at my right hand, where the little light in the room glinted off the small diamond on my right finger. Twenty years old, and engaged to my boyfriend for nearly six years. Living with my mom and various siblings, who were at school and working hard, especially my two oldest sisters. Making plans for the wedding and honeymoon, and afterwards, to go to university with my husband and half-sister. How could this be my life? Where had the squalor and misery gone to? What about struggling to survive?

Here it was.

The music came to a peak, and I found tears swelling in my eyes. Still I didn't move. What if he still hated me? What if my arrival would bring him nothing but pain? How could I live with myself if I made his life even worse?

But there was nothing in his voice. No pain, no longing, none of the expression that instantly came to mind when I thought of him. And maybe, just maybe, I could bring some life back.

I started singing myself at some point. I can't remember where. But for one second, both of us were singing along to a song we both knew, like in the old days.

Then he broke off, sitting up quickly and staring in my direction with achingly familiar eyes. He frowned, remembering, but not quite understanding.

I walked slowly into his room and sat down on the end of his bed. Taking his arm, I slid my hand down it until it was in his. Then I pressed my fingertips to his.

Before I knew it, his arms were around me in a hug so tight I could hardly breathe. I hesitated for a second, before wrapping my own arms around him, leaning my head into his shoulder and sighing deeply.

We sat there long after the song had ended, silently, remembering. Then he spoke.

"Maximum Ride," he muttered into my hair. The words were rusty with disuse, but my heart leapt as he said them.

"Iggy." I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from choking up.

He paused. "Nobody's called me that in a while."

I unwrapped myself from him, holding him at arm's distance and staring into his unseeing eyes. "It's the only name you're gonna hear from now on, I promise you. You're coming back with me. You're coming home."

Again, a pause. It was like he had forgotten how to speak. "I can't."

"Why not?" I demanded. The tears were really starting to flow now; I felt like a little kid.

He reached up to take my right hand, resting his fingers on the ring. "You've moved on. You guys are doing better without me. I can't just come along and ruin that."

I swallowed. "Fang knows I'm here. He asked me to come and find you. He won't be happy if you're not with me when I go back."

"Fang's never happy."

"Not anymore, no."

"You're acting like I was a big deal to you guys." The echo of a smile flitted across Iggy's face. "What happened to liability?"

"You're not a liability. You're not and you never were. But you will be, if you stay here. You'll be a liability to the happiness of my wedding day."

He didn't say anything. I pressed on.

"Everyone will be there, Iggy, everyone."

"All the more reason not to be there."

"What are you talking about?"

"Max, I ran away five years ago, burning buildings as I went. I had to hide from the police until they gave up on me. Now I'm a brain-dead slob, working once a week at a small music shop so I can pay the rent for this mess." He gestured at the room. "You're implying I was missed, and I don't believe that. But if it is true, how can I just turn up for your wedding? How can I just appear and expect to be welcomed back?"

"Because we will welcome you back! We want you with us, now more than ever. Honestly, Iggy, in all the time I've know you, I never realised you were this much of a moron!"

Silence. Then:

"That's the Maximum Ride I remember."

I kept my voice low.

"Iggy. It is four weeks until my wedding day. It's in a beautiful church near Mo – Dr Martinez' house. She'll be there. Jeb'll be there. Nudge, Angel and Ella-" Here his head jerked up; I'd forgotten he never knew what happened to her "-will be my bridesmaids. Gazzy is a pageboy, and if you get your ass into gear, you're Fang's best man. If you don't get your ass into gear, Fang will have to ask Jeb. Fang really does not want to ask Jeb. So you had better stop lying in this hellhole and start flapping on over there."

"I'm Fang's best man?" There was a note of both incredulity and, surprisingly, humour in his voice.

"If you're coming."

Again, that infuriating silence.

"Fine then." I stood up. "I'll go back alone. I'll tell Dr Martinez you don't want to go back to her house again. I'll tell Angel her big brother isn't coming back. I'll tell Nudge you don't want to see her graduate. I'll tell Gazzy you're not going to help him make confetti bombs for the wedding. I'll tell Fang that his best friend is a coward, and I'll tell Ella that you don't even want to know if she's still alive. And you can stay here, paying the rent by the skin of your teeth until your once pretty face rots away through starvation and your skeleton will go on display in some natural history museum!"

I was nearly yelling by the end. Breathing hard, I glared at Iggy one last time, and turned away.

"Confetti bombs?"

I whirled around, about to scream at him, before I saw the look on his face. It was the grin we tended to call the 'Fly-as-fast-as-your-wings-can-carry-you-this-place-is-about-to-be-relocated-to-the-face-of-Jupiter-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!' face, generally because that's what was yelled by the entire flock simultaneously when it appeared. My anger melted as I saw it, and I, very relucantly, found my own face breaking out into a smile.

"He thinks I haven't seen the plans. Something about an organ sound trigger."

Iggy moaned quietly. I smirked.

"There is no way he is doing that without me."

I folded my arms. "So it's the bombs, is it? Not family, not friends. Just the bombs."

Iggy stood up and looked at me like he could actually see me. "Max. I love you. I love Angel and Nudge and Gazzy and Ella and... well, maybe not Fang so much. I even love Total, when he's not running around and tripping me up. But what would be the point in coming back if I wasn't returning to my old post?"

"The blind, sarcastic, pale, sexist pyromaniac?"

"That's the one."

I looked at him, and I had to admit, I couldn't see him being anyone else.

Gesturing to the window, I said, "After you?" He smiled, and climbed up onto the windowsill. Pulling his slit-less t-shirt over his head, he paused for a moment before jumping out and expanding his enormous wings to their full width, catching the breeze like an expert.

Well, he was.

I did the same, not looking back at the room he had once inhabited. Together, we sailed over the mashed up town below us, breathing deeply in the cool night air.

"So, Iggy?"

"Uh huh?" He seemed preoccupied with the joys of flying again.

"I guess it'll be your turn to get married next, right?" I said slyly. His head jerked up, his eyes widening.

"Yeah right. To who?"

"Well... we do have two lovely girls back at home, 17 and 18 respectively, for you to choose from..."

"Oh damn." He plastered on an expression of agony. "Decisions, decisions."

I laughed.

That's the Iggy I remembered.

"By the way, Iggy."

"Yeah?"

"You realise that you touch either of them and I find out, I will kill you."

He smirked. "Oh, don't worry, Max. You won't find out."

He was joking. He'd better be joking.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Btw, if anyone hasn't listened to Letter in the Mail - or James Taylor in general - I recommend it. If you listen to it with Iggy in mind, it's actually really sad. Anyhoo...**


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